


The Tallest Tower

by ndnickerson



Series: Tallest Tower [1]
Category: Nancy Drew - Keene
Genre: Angst, Drama, Engagement, F/M, First Time, Nancy Drew Files, Post-Canon, Romance, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-29
Updated: 2009-12-29
Packaged: 2017-10-05 11:30:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/41286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ndnickerson/pseuds/ndnickerson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ned is poisoned, and Nancy has 24 hours to find the cure.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Tallest Tower

She already has the coffee waiting and the air conditioner going full-blast when he slides into the passenger seat of her Mustang, a homemade CD jewel case in his hand. "God, Nan. Who gets up at four-thirty in the morning?"

"People who don't want to be seen," she replies, putting her arm around the back of his seat as she backs out of his driveway. "Whatcha got?"

"This?"

He goes quiet, letting the force slam him back against his seat as she shifts the car into drive, and she darts a glance over at him. "A CD?"

He shrugs. "I think you'll like this one better."

"It's not like your parents won't hire a DJ."

She tempers the end of it with a smile and glances down at the engagement ring on her left hand. Soon he'll be graduated and they'll have a summer wedding. She's picked out everything, but Ned is taking his sole duty, choosing the soundtrack of this, the most important day of their lives, very seriously.

"I just don't want some sappy sentimental crap playing for our first dance. I mean, other than sappy sentimental crap that actually means something to us."

She smiles. "So put it in."

He ducks his head. "Not now. I was thinking, later, we could go out to dinner, and then listen to it, and you can tell me which ones you hate..."

"As long as there's no death metal on it this time, I think we'll be okay."

He grins. "Hey, it was unexpected, right?"

"It was that," she laughs.

The world is cool and black, just touched with blue. She navigates through the deserted streets of Chicago with ease, while he drains his coffee and sits, trembling with chemical euphoria, next to her. He presses the jewel case between his palms, and when she can, she turns to study him, the chiseled line of his jaw, his tousled hair. Soon this case will be over. For a long time, even the thrill of accomplishment wasn't enough to make her not dread it. Since her engagement to Ned, since she'd finally started thinking about what it would mean to be his wife, she found that she always knew another case would come along.

Now she knew that Ned would be by her side, too.

He catches her gaze and returns it with a flash of a smile, as the car idles at a suddenly green light. She's so close to the end of this case that she can feel it. All they have to do is break into Lila Randolph's office, find anything linking her to Dr. Mitchell's office, and take it to the Chicago PD. That simple. Her father will lend his considerable oratory skills to the Grand Jury hearing, she will be bound over for trial, bodies will be exhumed, coroner's statements questioned...

"Isn't this it?"

Responding to the urgency in Ned's voice, Nancy pulls into a parking lot down the next block, then sits with her foot on the brake, her heart pounding. "Thanks."

Ned shrugs with a smile, already loosing his seat belt. "All right. We get in, get out, go get pancakes..."

"Definitely."

\--

It's a stupid thing, so stupid that she doesn't register it at first. In Lila Randolph's office, and it takes almost an hour for them to get through security and disable all the alarms in place, Nancy goes through the desk while Ned pokes around in the credenza, the pigeonholes, the filing cabinets.

"Ouch!"

"What is it?" she whispers, and Ned shakes his hand limply in response, looking disgusted.

"I must have caught my thumb on the latch or something." He sounds angry with himself. "God. It stings."

"Why don't you go sit down while I finish up," she says, concerned, and he just nods a little. Outside Chicago is just lighting up, newsstand men shuffling into their kiosks, the buses puffing smoke into the air. Ned is pale by the time she returns to him, angry with herself, frustrated because this seemed like their last best hope.

"You okay?"

Ned rouses himself with a strong effort, peering up at her face. "Guess I didn't have enough coffee," he murmurs.

"It's okay, we'll go right to the nearest pancake house." Nancy smiles.

He grimaces. "I'm not really hungry."

"But you were just..." she shakes her head. "Look, I'm going to take you to the urgent-care, okay? You feel feverish."

"I'm fine," he protests, pushing himself up. "I'm great."

"Then they'll give you some aspirin and you'll feel a thousand times better," she argues. "Okay? For me?"

"For you," he agrees.

The receptionist is bored, but Nancy leaves her fiancé in the waiting room and gets back to the building just in time to see the guards' shift change, a flood of well-dressed women in stilettos climbing the escalators, riding the elevators. She chews her lip, jumping when her cell phone rings, announcing a call from her father.

"Any luck?"

"No," Nancy moans back. "Ned and I went through her office but we didn't find anything, and I think he's coming down with the flu, so I took him to the doctor's office. Any other suggestions?"

"She keeps her files in a warehouse on the outskirts of the city," Carson muses aloud. "It's a long shot."

"But at least it's a shot," she says, jotting down the address.

\--

At noon she returns to the city, defeated, still empty-handed. Even though she told Ned to call her as soon as the doctor was finished, her phone hasn't rung. Lila's parking space is still empty. Her stomach is rumbling because she had planned on a nice breakfast with Ned, and now she's famished. Sighing to herself, she picks up her phone and dials Ned's, hoping his appetite is back to normal.

"Hello?" The voice on the other end isn't Ned's, although it sounds almost right.

"Hello?"

"Nancy?"

"Yes. Mr. Nickerson," she answers, feeling relieved. "Why do you have Ned's phone?"

"Are you in Chicago?"

"Just got back. Why?"

"We're at Mercy General."

\--

Ned's face is as pale as the pillow under his head. She keeps staring at him, gripping the footrail, afraid her legs are about to give out.

"If we don't find out what got into his system soon..." The doctor shakes his head. "Do you have any idea what he touched, if something stung him, if he ingested something...?"

The hand he injured is warm and slightly puffy. "He didn't eat anything," she says, hoarsely. "He touched something."

"Where?"

"In Lila Randolph's office," Nancy says, her gaze still locked on him, her voice slow. "He said it stung."

They ask her to go with them and she doesn't want to go, doesn't want to leave his side, but the doctors practically demand it. So they take a pair of police officers with them and ride all the way up to Lila's office, and Nancy just keeps sliding the engagement ring around and around on her finger, around and around.

"I don't know what you expect to find here."

The doors she and Ned snuck through hours earlier are all wide open now, revealing busy secretaries, file clerks, assistants. Lila's red nails clack on the desk, her sicksweet smile firmly in place. Nancy walks directly over to the desk Ned had opened, and pulls open the drawer.

There's nothing inside. No papers, nothing. One of the technicians follows Nancy over and she gives a curt nod, turning her burning gaze back on Lila.

"We were here, earlier. There was something in this drawer."

"I keep that desk available for my secretary. There's nothing in it now." Lila's eyes are hard, brittle with amusement. "When earlier, exactly?"

"Before you were here."

"There's nothing in here," the tech says quietly, and Nancy keeps her gaze locked on Lila's, so angry that she could practically punch the other woman through a wall by sheer force of will. "Is there anywhere else we should check?"

Nancy shrugs. "She'll have it hidden. Isn't that right."

"I don't like what you're insinuating," Lila says, drawing herself up to her full height. "If you don't leave, I might go review the security tapes and find out if I can prefer charges against you."

"I almost wish you would," Nancy says sincerely. "I'd love to get you on the stand, so we can get your perjury on the record."

The officers escort the techs out, and Nancy is the last to leave. "This is what happens when you stick your noses where they don't belong," Lila says, not looking at her. "Watch yourself."

"Same to you," Nancy says, slamming the door as she heads out.

\--

His parents take a hotel suite near the hospital and when Nancy walks in, the doctor is seated on the edge of Ned's bed, and Ned's brown eyes are open, responsive.

"So what's going on?"

She watches the doctor shake his head, his expression grim, as they linger in the hallway. "The poison is spreading through his system, fast," he says. "I give him twenty-four hours from initial exposure, maybe thirty or thirty-six if we're incredibly lucky. I'm giving him broad treatment."

"What's going to happen?"

The doctor shrugs. "The pain's going to get to be too much," he says softly. "We'll put him on morphine to make things easier. For tonight we can't do much for him in the hospital that he can't do here and be more comfortable. In the morning, he needs to come back for reevaluation, but by then..." He shakes his head.

"What if I find out what poison it was?"

"You'll need to tell us as soon as possible, so we can find an appropriate antidote. But the longer he goes like this, the more is going to go wrong that we won't be able to fix anymore."

Ned is sitting up and he looks frail; she's surprised at the change in him. She holds back, watching his parents linger over him, their expressions falsely bright.

"I'm so sorry," she says softly, and at that Edith almost loses it right in front of her.

The four of them eat dinner in the small room, although Ned's appetite is almost entirely diminished, and Nancy catches him closing his eyes, his brow furrowing, more and more often. They talk about anything except what's on their minds. When Ned announces that he's tired, his parents say their goodbyes and head back to their own room, right next door, and Nancy, unwilling to leave, starts down to the front desk to register for her own room.

"Nan."

His voice cracks on the single syllable and she turns back, catching the door in her hand.

"Before you do that, go down and get the CD out of your car," he says, and then he starts coughing, and she can't look away until he's panting but at least he's breathing normally again, and she is sure that she would rather murder herself a thousand times than watch him go through this.

The CD has their song on it. He motions for her to lie down with him on the bed and she does, curled up against his chest, and he wraps his arms around her when she hears those first familiar notes and she just breaks down, starting to cry. 

"Hey," he whispers, crooking his finger under her chin and tilting her face back so he can see it. "We're going to get through this."

"Yeah," she lies, wiping at her wet eyes. "You're right. We're going to dance to this at our wedding."

"So you like this one better?"

The raw vulnerability in his eyes breaks her heart all over again. "I love it," she murmurs, smiling at him. "I think it's perfect."

He smiles. "Good," he whispers. "You're the only one that matters."

She buries her head against his shoulder and takes a long, deep breath, drawing the scent of him in. She has to go see Lila Randolph tonight. She'll beat the answer out of her, if she has to. She just can't bear to leave Ned's side quite yet.

His fingertips brush against her shoulder, over her sleeve. "Nan?"

"Yeah?" she murmurs, wiping at her eyes again.

"Marrying you..." He clears his throat. "I've always loved you, and I want you to know that. I couldn't love you more if we were married. You've always been the only one."

She touches his face. "Since the day you proposed to me I knew you were the only one I could ever be with," she says softly. "No more doubt, no more fear, no more regret. Just you."

He smiles. "I'll love you the rest of my life," he says, and his voice almost breaks. "I just... I just want to show you."

She closes her eyes and thinks of the wedding showers and plans they might never see, the nights she might never spend holding him close, the gift she has been keeping for him since the day she knew his kiss, his touch could shake her to the core.

He is her only. She knows now that nothing will ever change it.

"Then show me," she whispers.

\--

They leave the bedside lamp on and he kisses her while the song that was played at their first prom plays, his mouth sweet and gentle against hers. She pulls his shirt off and he takes his time with hers, as though he wants her to have time to reconsider, to tell him to stop, to tell him that they can save this for their wedding night. But she remembers how hard it was for her when she herself was poisoned, when she thought she might never see him again, when the last few grains were slipping through the hourglass.

She doesn't tell him to stop. When he slides his pants off she nestles in close to him, pressing her body to his, lazily folding one leg over his hips as they lie facing each other. During one long, slow kiss, he unhooks her bra and she shrugs it off her shoulders, leaving her breasts bare to him. The song is the one that was playing during the first frat party they attended together, the one where she got wasted on rum punch and let him get to second, practically forced him to get to second. Now when he cups his palm over her breast she arches into his touch, gasping softly.

She slides her underwear off first and he's quick to follow, his palm gliding like speechless worship down over her hip, the smooth curve of her. He kisses her again, and she puts her arms up around his neck, burying her hands in his hair as he rolls on top of her. The tip of his cock strokes blindly between her thighs and she waits for him to guide it to her, but they don't stop kissing and she can't talk because she's afraid of what she'll say, afraid that the thick lump of tears in her throat will rise instead.

He traces his fingers, the backs, over her inner thighs, where her flesh is delicate and paper thin. He draws his fingertips through the curls of hair between, over the sensitive seams where her legs meet her hips, and cups his palm, warm and sure, over her. This song was played during the first concert they went to together and they had shouted every word with the lead singer, and Nancy draws a slow breath, their gazes steady and holding.

She knows he has a condom in his wallet but she does not mention it and he does not suddenly remember himself and find it. She reaches for him and strokes her palms down his hips, and as he kneels over her she folds her fingers loosely around his cock and pumps it gently a few times, just a few deft flicks of her wrist and he's panting for breath, his hands on her knees so he can push them up and apart. She curves one arm around his shoulders, urging him down by tugging gently on his cock until he's close enough for her to touch, and then she kisses him, slowly, deeply, stroking his cock the entire time as it waits just below her open thighs.

This is the music they have been listening to for their entire life, their life together, and this is the fever that has been in her blood since the day they met, beginning the countdown of some inevitable unspeakable clock that marked every second until this, the end of their separation, the beginning of their truth. She desires him as she has no other, for him she wants no other, and when she tilts her head and breathes her want into his ear, her breath warm on his skin, bucking her hips up and gently leading his cock, everything in her is silent, screaming, waiting only for the consummation of his weight inside her.

"Nan," he cries, as his cock slides between her thighs for the first time, and she arches as she feels its press, its slow descent. He presses his mouth to hers, breathing in her every gasp, and she wraps her legs around his waist, her arms around his shoulders, pulling him in close.

"Nan..."

There is wonder, desperation in his voice, and she closes her eyes, arching up and then the angle is right. She's wet and it feels perfect, she makes little whimpers of encouragement and pleasure and his every smooth thrust takes him just a little deeper, just a little deeper, by degrees. Without her control her hips are pressing up to meet his and she digs her nails into his back, tightening her legs to pull him close.

"I love you," she groans, her entire body tensing under him, curling in on itself as something brushes her clit. He nods in encouragement, his hips jerking in quicker thrusts above her thighs, and she takes in a sharp breath, trying not to scream as she comes.

\--

He holds her close even in his sleep and she nuzzles into him, her eyes burning with unshed tears. His skin is too warm. She can feel the warmth he left inside her, she can feel his length still, distantly, like a phantom weight.

He doesn't stir when she leaves his bed and she gazes down at him, her heart breaking anew. "I'll be back," she whispers, leaning to kiss his forehead, his cheek.

Lila is at home, when Nancy arrives, her rage and fury perfect. Lila sleeps soundly until Nancy presses the cold muzzle of a gun under the point of Lila's chin and nudges her with it.

"The poison," Nancy growls, when Lila's eyes pop open, her jaw dropping. "Tell me what it is."

"It won't matter," Lila says, pushing herself up. "It's because you two were snooping around in my office that your boyfriend got himself hurt."

"What, did you fucking booby trap it for us?"

"For anyone." Lila glances at the gun. "Your being involved was a nice bonus."

"Tell me what it is," Nancy demands again.

Lila shakes her head. "It won't matter if I do," she repeats. "There is no cure."

\--

She strips naked before she crawls into bed with him again, kissing him awake, hungrily, already straddling his hips, and he responds instinctually. "I need you again," she moans, trailing kisses down his neck, her tears falling on his shoulder as he cups her ass in his palms and urges her down against him.

He is weak from the pills, from the poison, from all of it, so she mounts him slowly, gently, guiding his cock between her thighs. His hips move under hers, and when he's buried almost fully inside her she starts to sob, pulling him tight against her.

"I don't want to lose you."

"You'll never lose me," he whispers, his lips brushing against her neck. "I promise you, I swear."

"I would have married you," she whispers. "If I could I would take back all of it, I would give everything I have, I would give my soul to give you one more day, I swear, Ned, I swear I would."

He brushes the tears off her cheek. "Promise me," he whispers. "Promise me you'll never forget how much I love you."

"I never will," she breathes, her hips moving in a shallow circle over his. "And I will never stop loving you, I swear. I swear."

He arches, pulling her close, and she cries out as she takes him so deep that her thighs are against his hips. He starts to tremble and dig his fingers into her back, drawing her even closer, and when she shifts her knees she comes again, clenching him tight inside her, feeling every jerk of his cock as he comes.

\--

His parents find them in bed together, and none of them say anything. He's paler, now, and he can't breathe without coughing, and without giving a damn what either of them thinks she wraps herself around him, drawing his head to her shoulder, rocking him gently as he shakes, tears streaming down her face.

Her father meets them at the hospital and he has filed a dozen different petitions with as many judges, trying to get Lila put in custody, trying to get her where they can somehow broker a deal, persuade her to talk, but Nancy, drained, just sits at Ned's bedside, his hand loose in hers, knowing that anything she could possibly give still would not be enough.

When he starts drifting the doctors pull the curtain around his bed, as the monitors beep and the air breathes still around them, and she climbs up beside him and curls up against him like a child, her hand still in his, not even trying to hide her tears now. He brushes his lips against her forehead in the faintest kiss, once. He squeezes her hand and she pulls back to gaze into his face, her own stricken pale and miserable, twisted in grief.

_Promise_, he mouths, and she nods, running her hand over his hair, her mouth shaking.

The heart monitors start to chirp erratically and Edith gasps out a cry, her husband's arm around her shoulders, and Nancy thinks that if she can, somehow, if she can just will it hard enough, if she can just love him enough, then he won't go, he would never leave, he would never do this to her.

And then he is gone, and she screams, screams, over and over, because her heart is broken.

\--

Lila is dead twelve hours later. The case against her falls apart but Nancy does not care, and she does not speak; not to her father, not to Ned's parents, not to Hannah, not to her friends, not to anyone. She doesn't even see them. She stays in bed once she gets home, and her father comes and speaks to her in low gentle tones when they find Lila's body but Nancy does not respond, does not even move.

When it comes time for the funeral Hannah goes upstairs and speaks to Nancy firmly and sympathetically, and Nancy obeys as Hannah leads her to the shower, but she moves like she still sleeps, like whatever is going on in her head is far preferable to what is going on outside. She sits with her head bowed as Hannah dries her hair, as Hannah picks out a dress, shoes, coat.

The coffin is black, satin black, covered in flowers, and there is no seating left in the church, save by Ned's parents, the place they have kept for her. Everyone is ready, seated, hushed, watching her as Nancy walks very slowly to the front of the church, the roses, the portrait of him. Hannah springs forward just as Nancy's legs collapse under her and she falls to the cold floor, incoherent with grief.

When it comes time, after the limousine ride, all the way to the graveside, she will not let them put him in the ground, she puts her fingers through the handle and holds on. The minister doesn't repeat any of his platitudes and she lashes at anyone who tries to touch her. Her father doesn't even try. He's already lived it once and he will not live it again.

Finally Edith steps forward and touches her shoulder. "He's not in there," she says, and her own eyes are red-rimmed, her mouth trembling. "He's not in there anymore. What they're putting in the ground isn't him."

"Then bury me with it," she breathes, through her tears. "I'll never be whole again."

"I know," Edith says, reaching for her, hugging her, and only then does she let go.

\--

They never find Lila's killer. Carson feels sick when he thinks about it but Nancy left the day after the funeral. She calls his office at night, once it's closed, every week or two, and he knows she's still alive, but if he waits for her (and he waits for her too often), if he picks up she won't speak. She rambles sometimes and he can hear the din of a bar behind her and he knows she's drunk; sometimes she just says that she is safe, very quietly, before she hangs up, but she never says that she's all right, not anymore. When he traces the call and returns it, no one who answers has ever heard of her.

On the day that was to be their wedding day she calls and Carson waits, his eyes wet.

"I want to be with him," she whispers. "I want to be with him again. I want to wake up from this. I don't know how you made it through. All I want to do is shut down, I just want to stop hurting, I want to remember him without wanting to kill myself."

Carson puts his head down on the desk.

"I don't know when you're going to hear from me again," she says, and he comes within a hair's breadth of picking up the phone. "I don't know if I'm ever going to be able to look anyone in the eye again. I see the rest of my life and it's meaningless. I killed the only thing I ever loved. And maybe I should turn myself in, maybe that's what I deserve. It would be such a relief to stop running.

"I love you, Dad."

After ten minutes, still, unmoving, at his desk, Carson slowly stands on leaden legs, removing the answering machine tape, straightening his papers. Remembering another night, another phone call, that single ordinary moment that had been the last he had not been alone. There had been no one to throw him a lifeline then. Nancy alone had kept him from going over the edge.

He looks down at Nancy's picture, in its silver frame on his desk. "I'm coming for you," he whispers.

"I'll bring you back."

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Meant to Last](https://archiveofourown.org/works/41297) by [ndnickerson](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ndnickerson/pseuds/ndnickerson)




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